


Supernova

by weallfalldowneventually



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Characters are not explicitly named, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Loosely based off of Ansel Elgort's Supernova, M/M, Please Read Trigger Warnings, Suicide, You can decide who is who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:46:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weallfalldowneventually/pseuds/weallfalldowneventually
Summary: A sudden wave of anger overtakes him, burning him from the inside out, much like a supernova.





	Supernova

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idontwanttodothisanymore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontwanttodothisanymore/gifts).



> Major tw; suicide, graphic description of suicide, blood.
> 
> Loosely based off of Supernova by Ansel Elgort. It's a lovely song, you could listen to it while reading this.

His fingers tremble as they hold tight to the pen in his hand, and he wonders if he'll successfully be able to write anything that is legible. With his heart pounding in his chest, he carefully crafts the words he wishes to write. He wonders if any of this will make sense in the long run as his thoughts seem to continuously ricochet off of his skull, only to brutally reenter his brain.

He clenches his eyes shut, tears stinging behind his closed eyelids. Before he knows it, his trembling fingers turn into a shaking hand.

_What is he doing? He can fix this. It doesn't have to be like-_

His heart feels like it's being torn, no, shredded into a million different pieces. The pure, raw agony coursing through his veins makes him feel as if he were dying. The way in which his heart beats makes his lungs feel the need to compensate, working them double time, almost as if he were running a marathon. No, he simply is just trying to run from his own breaking heart.

His lungs burn, screaming at him with this nervous energy, telling him he's not getting enough oxygen. He feels a sob clawing it's way up his throat, desperately trying to break free from the imprisonment of his heaving chest.

A sudden wave of anger overtakes him, burning him from the inside out, much like a supernova. He stands, his new found rage pushing him forward, a wave of adrenaline urging him to move, to fight, to do something.

 _Anything_.

He screams, a broken, scratchy sound that conveys his anger, his pain, his regret. He screams until he tastes blood, until his lungs feel like they're going to burst with the force being presented on to them. It doesn't help. Nothing is helping, and he feels himself begin to openly weep, knees buckling under the sudden new wave of emotion.

The one thing, the one _person,_ that used to help him, that used to keep him grounded is now the one thing bringing him so much anguish. He's exhausted, yet tears still seem to find the will to roll down his flushed cheeks. His throat burns, and his body shakes with the force of the wails leaving his aching body.

_Why did he wait so long? Why was he such a fucking coward?_

He's not entirely sure how much time he spends lying in the fetal position of their shared living room. Doesn't know how long he's been lying in a puddle of his own saliva, snot, and tears. The one thing he does know is how pathetic he must look. Heartbroken and crying over a boy he could never truly bring himself to find attainable.

_It doesn't matter now._

A strange mixture of defeat and anger bring him to his feet, legs weak yet determined. He finds himself staggering his way towards the bathroom, pen and paper left behind. He traces his fingers along the walls of their apartment. Skimming them over the dull, lifeless grey paint.

He stumbles into the bathroom, eyes catching a glimpse of himself. He almost hisses in disgust, bile bubbling up into his already bruised throat. The familiar sensation of tears come springing back to his eyes. A broken sigh leaves him, much like the will to live left him when only a few single words were uttered to him, innocently enough.

His fingers, steady for the first time that day, carefully turn the hot water on and effortlessly find the drain stopper. He watches as the tub begins to fill, slowly a wave of numbing calm washes over him. He doesn't bother with adding any cold water, he doesn't need to.

Deft fingers open the mirror cabinet, fingers easily skimming over the cool metal he so cleverly kept hidden behind the untouched first aid kit. With a practiced ease he pulls the razor out, fingers twirling it's comforting weight between his fingers. It's a familiar friend, one he had promised he had given up months ago.

He had, he was no liar, but he kept it there, almost like a little security blanket.

A pained noise leaves his throat as he carefully situates himself in the scalding water, the physical pain a comfort to his stinging heart. He brings the blade to his right wrist, presses down, breathes, and drags. A surprised yelp escapes him at the amount of pain that washes over him, before a dark chuckle emerges, tears blurring his vision.

_What did he expect? It certainly wasn't going to be painless._

He switches hands readjusting his grip as best as he can with his trembling arm and repeats. He's panting before he knows it, tears mixing with the blood swirling and melting delicately into the water. He let's himself sink, further and further, finding a sick comfort in the sound of the water overflowing and splashing over the edge of the tub and onto the pearly white tiled floor.

He lays there, eyes closed, tears clinging to his pretty lashes as he allows himself to bleed out. His note long forgotten by his already straying mind.

~~I loved you.~~  
~~I love you.~~  
**You love him.**

 


End file.
